


Home-Based Smells Simulator

by Sveearu



Category: The Sims (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Strangetown, loki being extra. that's the plot, other strangetown sims are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 09:57:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21492454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sveearu/pseuds/Sveearu
Summary: Only two weeks had passed since Loki had began working on this particular project.
Relationships: Circe Beaker/Loki Beaker
Kudos: 12





	Home-Based Smells Simulator

It was uncommon for thunderstorms to happen in Strangetown, and even when they did in fact happen, most citizens usually had more pressing matters to attend to. Loki Beaker, on the other hand, liked the atmosphere and thought a weather like this would create the perfect setting for one of his experiments. Lightning illuminated the dim kitchen before turning pitch black again, and a shrill music accompanied him as he made the latest changes to his new 'baby'. With the crescendo of the melody, even his ego was exalted to see his work accomplished in front of his eyes, and he sneered ever louder, more and more pleased -

The music suddenly stopped, and with it the sound of thunder and rustling wind: his "Supervillains - Track 01 to 35" playlist reached its end, and Loki rolled his eyes and got back to work, albeit with less enthusiasm.

His Home-Based Smells Simulator was finally ready, and it would be the envy of the entire neighborhood. No one would dare to mock his cooking skills ever again!

He just had to plug it in and test it, oh he just could not wait to see the look on the Curious brothers' faces! Loki switched it on, turning the dial to the 'grilled cheese' setting, and waited: the machine made a low noise, like that of sizzling oil, and then he smelled the familiar fragrance of Circe's cooking... melting plastic? He watched with horror, as his newest creation drew its last cloud of black smoke and died in front of his eyes.

"Clearly the world is not ready for my genius yet," he said deflated, hoping no one was around to witness this failure.

In the corner of his eye, he caught Nervous' lanky figure stroll past the kitchen and into his 'room', sighing. How dare the test subject insult him with his accusing reactions? Did Nervous have a problem with the whacks and thuds coming from the kitchen? Only two weeks had passed since Loki had began working on this particular project - two weeks of uninterrupted noises, sure, but only two weeks. It was clearly not his fault that Nervous' basement didn't have a door he could shut. 

Of course, Loki was unfazed by these trivial matters, and let the subject go without saying a word. He made a mental note to sprinkle into Nervous' dinner plate a few of his Every Flavour Beans, a recent invention of Loki Beaker himself and absolutely not a prototype he had stolen from one of his colleagues' desks at work.

Defeated, he glanced at the simulator one more time and headed to the master bedroom. He overheard Meredith Lillard in the living room, talking to Circe about her new job and other things he did not care about.

* * *

  
"So I get it's not going well."

Circe broke the silence taking another bite of her french toast. Aside from Loki's deranged sleeping patterns of the last month, the entire first floor of the Beaker mansion now constantly smelled of burnt plastic. "Why don't you just," she chose her next words carefully "take your mind off it for a few days. Weren't you about to finish your Barks-To-Money morpher?"

Loki was appalled. How dare she tell him to scrap the Simulator for a much more insignificant project? He had spent almost a month trying to teach Nervous how to bark, what more could he do to make the Barks-To-Money morpher work? Get an actual dog? As if.

"Well I can't just throw it away, that would be against my parents' teachings on environmental awareness. Do you have any idea how many toxic substances would be released in the atmosphere if I was to leave it in the crater?" Loki huffed, taking a sip from his disposable cup. "Not to mention, I need to assess my dominance over the Pollination Technician's barbecue parties!"

Loki had been invited to multiple of the Smith family parties. Every first Sunday of each month, the Smiths would send cards to everyone in the neighborhood but Buzz Grunt; Loki assumed the only reason why he kept being invited was because Jenny and Circe worked together, and Jenny nine-nice-points Smith could not restrain herself from saying "Feel free to invite your husband too!"

Of course, Loki had never joined the gatherings.

As far as he knew, Circe only kept going for the free food, as every other aspect of the party was overshadowed by Erin pestering her about tarot readings for the entire duration of the event, with a side of Vidcund occasionally trying to brush his shoulder with hers. One time, Circe brought him some leftovers from the party, accompanied by a note from Jenny that read "Hope you'll be able to make it next time!" with a smiley alien face on the side. Loki barely ate any, just to prove a point, but even he could see the stuff was prime beef that had been perfectly cooked. It was hard to complain.

"I'll see you later, don't overthink it," Circe's voice snapped him out of his trance, as she patted him once on the shoulder. The carpool was waiting outside. She headed to the door, swiftly pulling her jacket off the coat rack. "But if you end up overthinking it, please let me know in advance." Her repeated Google searches on 'how to shut down my own olfactory sensory neurons i'm a doctor' hadn’t helped so far.

Loki sat by himself at the table for a while. It was clear by now, Circe was underestimating his invention, and by correlation, Loki himself. A newfound wave of bitterness resonated within him, he felt compelled to take action, to meet up with the expectations. He was going to go where no other inventor had ever gone, and he would show her and, most importantly himself, what he could accomplish. Nothing would stop him from achieving greatness: he was going to finish his Home-Based Smells Simulator at all costs!

* * *

  
Three months later, Loki was bawling on the living room sofa. Nothing could bring him joy anymore after the tragic failure of his Home-Based Smells Simulator. He had tried to find solace in dipping the test subject's toothbrush in the world's spiciest extract, originally purchased to send to Vidcund as Circe's bath water, but Nervous hadn't reacted. Not even for a moment.

"Circe, darling, love of my life, my one and only..." he muttered, slouching over until his head was on her lap, right under the book she was reading. Circe rolled her eyes, lifting the object up to her face, and as a response, he poked his nose against the hardcover to get her attention. "How can you still be with this failure of a man? Don't you feel like I'm the biggest mistake of your life?"

"Everyone makes mistakes," She turned the page, not taking her eyes off the book, "Albeit, I don't."

"You're just saying that," Loki pouted like a baby, facing away from her while his head was still on her lap. She didn't get it, and she never would. Three months had passed by, and the motivation he once had for inventing was never going to come back, as that, right then, was going to be the state he would be in for the rest of his life. He took in the scent of the nightgown she was wearing. She didn't smell like wildflowers and summer air like all the romcoms described, but she smelled like home and cleanser in a very aseptic way that was truly comforting. Loki felt his eyes swell up a little, and cursed himself for being so sentimental. "I'm the worst inventor of all."

Circe sighed, and closed her book with a thud. Loki looked up and saw her staring at him, her face a mixture of frustration and stupor.

"You genetically engineered two kids," Circe stressed every word. "Two kids that you cloned from yourself. Your own cells." 

Oh right, the kids. Loki would sometimes forget about them, especially now that they both were studying abroad. Kinda. By an unfortunate accident that involved time travelling. They occasionally visited, bringing some weird stuff called synthesized gastronomy, tasteless, gummy, vaguely disgusting. Loki didn't always get why sims would eat something like that, but always faked being grateful, just like his books about being the coolest dad suggested.

"Tsk. It's just a bunch of clones, I mean anybody with 11 PhDs could have done it," Loki shrugged it off. "If I wasn't such a failure, you could have been able to smell the best dishes in SimNation everyday."

"Look, I was joking when I said your cooking sucks," Circe pinched the bridge of her nose. "But I mean, we're filthy rich! Of course I'm always going to choose to have dinner delivered if the choice is between your cooking and that of a five-star restaurant."

At those words, Loki stayed silent: why was she bringing that up? He wasn’t working on the Simulator to make up for his (not) lack of skills. And of course a professional chef would cook better than him, that’s to be expected! She couldn’t be possibly suggesting that he invested his precious time on culinary classes, right? Unless…

Suddenly, it all made sense. A grin spread on his lips and he got up, overjoyed.

"My love, that's exactly it!" Loki picked her up and spun her around. The inventor knew Circe rarely indulged in his silly antics in proximity to Nervous' room, not wanting to lose face, but he was sizzling with adrenaline at that very moment and barely noticed how hard her hands were pressing on his chest to get away.

"We're going to hire a five-star chef. No, even better! We're going to find the best restaurant in SimNation and hire its entire staff," Loki smirked smugly. "We’ll make them cook for us everyday without breaks, and we're gonna tell them that all the leftover food will go to charity, but it won't."

"Hmm, deception. I like it," she nodded, amused.

"But we’ll actually send it to a lab as material for the research on synthesized gastronomy. No one will be able to enjoy a meal like a normal sim ever again because of us!"

"Now that's truly evil." Circe joked, kissing him soundly.

* * *

  
A couple of weeks later, Loki noticed that, even though the smells coming from his home were amazing, no one cared or talked about his made up parties anyways. The Beakers even received a fine for altering 'the natural smell of the Strangetown desert', whatever that meant. Loki fired the staff without a second thought, since they were no use to him anymore.

Feeling a sense of closure despite his disastrous failure, he disassembled his unfinished Home-Based Smells Simulator and retrieved some useful parts, trashing the rest.

Routines at the castle got back to the way they used to be. When either or both weren't working on something, the Beakers enjoyed peaceful weekends, spending their mornings reading the news, making coffee and wrapping up unfinished business.

One uneventful morning, Loki woke up slightly later than Circe had, and found her already at the dining table eating her usual french toast. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat in front of her, skimming through the newspaper with little interest. Circe was sorting through the mail, saving science magazines for later and throwing away Vidcund’s third love letter of the week. She stopped at one particular card towards the end of the pile and handed it to Loki.

He flipped it over and was greeted by Jenny's curly handwriting again. It was the customary invitation.

"You know, Loki," Circe played coy. "I think you could show them who's in charge if you were to bring your homemade mozzarella sticks. Copiously filled with that chili extract you have, perhaps, to spice things up a little."

Loki had a feeling he would be attending that one.

**Author's Note:**

> endless thanks to my gf, who beta-read this and gave way too many clever inputs


End file.
